"Move faster, slowpokes." Shiloh muttered to herself as she paced back and forth through the nexus. She has a disguise on, like always. Even when she showed herself to the world, she always had a mask. Too much publicity made things a hassle, and she wanted to ensure a smooth transition once her state of godhood was over. Normally she wouldn't be this nervous, but she was still recovering from the reopened wounds the mess between Naota and Xunatar had wrought. If she saw the former, she'd probably hit him in the gut or the throat if they were alone together. 'Thanks for nothing', she thought. Thanks for forcing her to relive her worst memories in vivid detail, along with the thousands of others who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

While she couldn't do the trials for people, there was nothing in the books that said she couldn't personally move things along. The easiest one for her to speed up progress as the Trial of Forbearance, a simple gauntlet of traps down a straight line. When designing the layout, she had to ensure that the variations were actually doable without magic but not so easy that you could just skip to the end entirely. This was why she was choosing to take part herself. Unlike the average person, she had the distinct ability to never get hit. Under disguise she advertised herself as someone who was willing to escort others through the trials, even offering to relinquish the keystone she would obtain at the end. In a painted clay mask and hooded robe over armor, she stood a few paces from the trial door and would approach any group less than four to ask if they were interested in her services. The only thing in it for her was charging up the stones faster, even by a minuscule tick.  

Shiloh needed to keep busy, or else she'd be venting out her anxiety on the nearest person she could grab. Angela wasn't in sight, and she had shaken her enough already. Her husband was on the other side of the nexus tending to the injured along with Nerine and Sylvain. The only ones who weren't here were Auron and Walter, the latter who needed time to recuperate from the Deities of Darkness and Light's aftermath. 

Oh, what be this?! Fancy rocks suddenly burst from ground, and now decorate street of city! Oh, most interesting, indeed! Statue of good craft, too! Looked really pretty and in fine form, too. It brought attention to many talls, too, as many of them tracked towards it…. BEFORE SUDDENLY VANISHING RIGHT BEFORE HIS VERY EYES! What-what?! Was this statue not of good craft, but evil craft? Did it take away those who admired its beauty for some ritualistic sacrifice?! "Take life figure no longer do!" Grakana declared before screaming his lungs out and dashing forward, armed and ready to leap at such a demonic rock!

Of course, being transported in mid-air also meant that when he arrived to the sight of the ziggurat, his entrance would have been him striking the ground with his little mallet decorated with what could only be described as a beak of a large bird. "Wha-huh?" escaped him as the small Shakalaka looked around him. Was was with the moving walls? AND WHY WAS THE SKY SO DEEP AND BLUE AND BIRDS HAD GROWN 50 TIMES BIGGER?! Oh, he was so confused. Maybe there was someone here to help? Looking around, he saw so many talls in here that this was where he expected them all to have landed, but he could hardly tell which ones could help him. Until he saw… HER!

Waddling over to the lady who leaned against the wall, the shakalaka stared up to examined the person before him (And look up he had to, as he barely met up to her ankle with the help of his mask). She seemed like a simple lady. Her mask was nothing all too fancy, being as flat as ever and only paint to decorate it? It… it… WAS REALLY SAD TO SEE! "Oh, poor you," Grkana stated as he suddenly hugged her leg. "Grakana sad to see such rough upbringing. Family not teach ways of Mask?" Tears were even dripping from the eye sockets of his own mask until he suddenly let go, standing up straight and holding his mallet up towards her. "THIS NO GOOD! Grakana shall make it Grakana's mission to ensure you know Way of Mask! You now be Grakana's apprentice!!!"

Oh gods why. Why did she always have to attract the weird ones? Here she was, minding her business, until some small gremlin like thing started hugging her leg and declaring her its apprentice. 'Somebody please put me out of my misery.' She thought to herself. She had no issue with the…masked shaman thing itself, but seeing water drip out of a masked face was a tad unsettling. Also the unwanted physical contact–but that was the standard with any stranger. Unfortunately nobody else in the entire room was paying attention to this spectacle. Just great. Right when she needed somebody the most, that was when everybody coincidentally happened to be busy, leaving her here with this confused yet odd creature with good intentions. Very misguided good intentions. 

As nobody was going to save her from this situational monstrosity, she had to play along. Looking down at the little masked shaman, she asked a regrettable question. "So…Grakana sir, what exactly is this 'Way of the Mask'?" Yes she was regretting this already, oh so very much. She might as well have unleashed the gates of the nine circles of Inferos right here and right now. Taking another look at this shaman and that mask of his, she was trying to figure out where in the world something like Grakana would have come from. Maybe Apoy? Or perhaps the deep jungles of Laeto? Bakulaw seemed unlikely, and she was out of places to guess.

"WHAT?!" Grakana scouted, looking his balance and taking a step back with an appalled face (or at least as a flat, static image could muster. It was mainly the body language). "How can apprentice not know of the Way of Mask?! Had family disowned you before you ever had a chance? And HOW DOES APPRENTICE KNOW GRAKANA'S NAME?! Does Apprentice mask show names of others to them?" It was clear he had lost track of his thoughts really quickly and adjusted his own helmet-like mask as if it was his way to get his brain back into place.

"Way of Mask is special to Shakalaka. In every mask rests spirit. We Shakalaka channel spirit into self and be one with them. Spirit of craftsman, spirit of form. We must always keep spirit close to us as if Mask is ONE with us. Spirit may even change Shakalaka, but Shakalaka must embrace. Even if means Hunts-man gives you Mask of Meat and use you as fishing bait for giant fish! GRAKANA ACCEPTED BEING DELISH!!!" Clearly, the "Way of the Mask" was a complex one.

"But all Shakalaka must know number one taboo! Taboo must not be broken! … Please tell Grakana you know of taboo…" Of course Apprentice would not know taboo. She hardly knew the Way of Mask! Oh, she probably broke it so many times, her spirit must be in complete shatters. Was this mask to help mend it? He would sure hope! "One must not remove mask in public! One must not let face be seen in public! Only parents and loved ones can see bear face of Shakalaka! And parent only see face of baby Shakalaka! Face of Shakalaka is special!"

“Everything is going haywire,” Kiba said to himself while leaning up against a far wall in the ziggurat. He had come as quickly as he could after the ‘announcement’ had been made by the two goddesses. The diowolf had to work with the other knights of their patron god before leaving to look into what exactly was going on. His bi-colored eyes looked to each of the adventurers that had made the similar journey to the location. Kiba was not enjoying the scenery or the overwhelming darkness that felt as if it loomed further within. What he was impressed with was that even though there were many there that could not help with the impending doom, they did what they could to aide those that went through the trials. Everyone was stepping up to do what they had the ability to.

Kiba glanced over as he saw a masked woman standing off on her own as well. His nose twitched as she caught her scent, but then another one mixed in as a small…very small creature began to attach itself to the woman. The diowolf lifted a brow and watched their interaction with a growing amusement. The creature called itself Grakana. There was quite a lot of energy in such a small beast. His vision lifted up from the shakalaka thing to see the body language of the masked woman. It took everything in him to keep from laughing at her dismay at being its target.

“The Way of the Mask seems intriguing! Please, are outsiders allowed to hear such things?” Kiba crossed the room and kneeled down next to Grakana, though a distance was kept to not overwhelm either of them. His Reztreal flashed each time it looked over the woman that stood masked, though it was more muted than when he had seen others of power. “I am sorry to interrupt, but I saw the pair of you and my interest peaked.”

She was hit face-first with a shipload of information, information which she had made the mistake of showing passing interest in. Her ignorance in whatever culture and way of life this shaman lived by lit a fire under him, and now he was more determined than ever to educate–or convert her. Heaven help her, she surely needed it right now. Then finally, somebody came over. For a fleeting moment she vainly thought this man was going to relieve her of this persistent little being, but her fragile hopes were smashed against a metaphorical floor as the newcomer proceeded to engage in conversation with Grakana. She really would appreciate if this man wouldn't continue encouraging the antics of the 'shakalaka'. True to form, she was an opportunist and her momentary despair was pushed aside at the chance to dump the tiny tribal man onto the person with heterochromic eyes.

"Grakana sir, this person seems quite eager to learn of the ways of the shakalaka. Surely his enthusiasm proves he will be an excellent devotee to the Way of the Mask? Why don't you take him under your wing and make him your apprentice instead?" She was planning to cut and run while she still could, using this man as a distraction. When she was out of their sight she would change her disguise and hopefully not be pulled aside by the shaman again. Well, provided things went as planned. They almost never did for her, no matter how carefully-thought out her plans were. A bit of irony being that as the current deity of luck, her troubles and misfortunes hadn't improved whatsoever. She could influence the fortunes of others, but those same powers did nothing for her. Just like now… Though her face was hidden by a mask, she was desperate in convincing the shaman to accept her proposal. 

From what she gathered from the information dump Grakana had poured onto her, shakalakas were a tribal community who worshipped vague spirits they believed to inhabit things with faces–such as masks. Masks were in a way, some sort of conduit which allowed spirit possession as long as said mask was worn. Faces held great importance in this tribe, just like how certain societies guarded true names as a close secret. The shamans however still possessed enough free will during being influenced by their masks, explaining how they could change them when the need arose. And this particular shaman seemed to be quite…gullible. Maybe straightforward was a nicer way of putting it.

After he got done explaining his tribe's art, another face came up, peaking interest within it as he knelt down to him, as if seeking more. And Apprentice seemed perfectly fine with him taking her place as Apprentice! "No!" he declared, not afraid to smack his beak-decorated mallet on the ground. "While fine for strange-ears to hear Way of Mask, learning it often impossible! Way of Mask is not hobby like sword, but lifestyle. Way of Mask become second nature like breathing! Mindset must be dedicated at young age to learn else mask' voice become lost!

Mask voice… become lost? Grakana's head suddenly dropped at that thought before looking up at Shiloh once more, working to hold back the tears (no matter how much it creeped her out). "Tell me, can Lady even hear Voice of Mask?" He had to surrender the fact of her becoming his apprentice, especially if she could not hear the mask. "If Voice of Mask cannot be heard, then Way of Mask is impossible. All Grakana can teach then is how to craft mask instead. Teach you how to give voice to mask so Shakalaka can hear it.

"ANYWAYS! Grakana must be off! This place eat many innocents! GRAKANA MUST USE STRENGTH TO DEFEAT DEVOURER!" Well, at the very least, the little guy still seemed interested in tackling the ziggurat… even if its probably for the wrong reason.

The diowolf glanced between the small creature and then back up to the tall masked person nearby. He couldn’t read any emotions off of the human that was being accosted by the shaman. There was hope that attention could be diverted away from the other. Kiba continued to smile brightly towards the little one. “I am eager to learn Grakana. Or at least hear about your ways. It is intriguing.” His arm rested on his knee while continuing to kneel on the ground. There was no much to the conversation as the masked little thing expressed that there was no way for him to learn.

Kiba chuckled softly and stood up to move away from the two. “Well, it was worth a try. Good luck with your trials!” he said with a small bow. His bi-colored eyes glanced up at the masked woman and gave her a wink. She was not in the mood to deal with others, and though he could not see her face it was her body language that gave her away. With hands lifted, he backed away. “I wish you both immeasurable amount of luck with these trials.”

Once Grakana was gone, she let out a long sigh of relief. She was saved by circumstance once again. Soon she was by herself. Shiloh wasn't given any time to explain to Grakana what was actually happening here, but maybe that was for the best. Rubbing the back of her neck she wasn't sure of what to think anymore. The other man who had stepped in before she dug herself in deeper seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn't recall why. They could have met anywhere. Since this wasn't exactly a pressing matter, she didn't think any further. They say you learn something new everyday–and Shiloh herself had to agree. When things calmed down she planned on relaying all the information this shaman had told her to Euripides, and the next time any of her employees went to visit Tar Eisalae she would send along a copy of this in text as a gift.

"I should include a few sketches too. Probably would be helpful for future records." Maybe at another place and time she might ask the little masked man more about his culture and see how they managed to imbue their masks with spirits–provided he didn't try to rope her into becoming his apprentice once again. With that now over, she resumed what she had been doing from the start. Advertising herself as someone looking for a group venturing into the first trial, she hoped her luck would be better in finding less odd folk this time.